name brand son

January 23, 2011
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My expensive splerge
has left me on the verge
of my true fate
when i shall pay the fee
of my pointless memories
my shattered slate
The book keeper says i have bils to pay
yet is pend my works on he mask i display,
I wake up from this earth
for i am no longer of its dirt
yet, i still till its soil timm my soul is hurt,
I bandage my wounds
with the earth muddy ruins.
Yet the sting of its curve makes the pain even worse,
salvation i seek for me retaliation i reap,
So today i will awake
no longer shall i be fake,
I will start the morning right
Im sick and tired of this never ending fight.
One bite from cereal of the name brand son
and assurance of knowledge that my mourning is won.





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